The Drama Queen

Quite a hot discussion these days. This was triggered by Ms India 2017, Manushi Chhillar, declaring on an international platform that motherhood should be the highest paid profession. And it did win her the coveted Ms World crown. It did earn her some raised eyebrows, too. How dare she calls something as pious as being a mother a profession? Well, my opinion has been very clear on this. It is a very touchy subject for me. It triggers a lot of underlying emotions for me. I call myself a full-time Mom. And I take my job very very seriously.  Technically, no, motherhood can’t be a profession. The simple reason being that to be a professional, you need to have an appropriate qualification and/or training for that particular vocation. And I say this, hands down - no university can prepare you for the job profile of a mother.  The job requirements that a mother faces are practically unheard by the rest of the world. Only one mother can understand the woes of another....

I know. I shouldn’t be using the F word! Bad influence. This is what we tell our children. I know I am entering a dangerous territory. But I desperately think that it is the need of the hour. It is high time we acknowledge this widely used phrase. If you are done raising your eyebrows and judging me, let me clarify that I am talking about... hold your breath.... The Facebook. Ohhh! What were you thinking??!! Remember the old village junction at the even older Peepal Tree altar, where people would gather and exchange pleasantries? They would hold ‘panchayats’ there. They would pass judgments there. They would raise issues there. Or just celebrate life. Getting the drift, eh? Facebook is the modern day Peepal Tree junction, so to speak. It is the modern way to stay connected with people, may it be with family or friends or acquaintances or sometimes even strangers, all over the globe, while staying in the comforts of your home, real time. Right from watching a movie at an upscale t...

Home is where the heart is.  Whom are we kidding?! Home is where the wifi connects automatically! New age. New adage. But bottom line remains the same. Home is the best place in the world. We are moving into our new home, soon. Our tenth residence move, since our marriage, to be precise. We are like the pros now! Right from changing the addresses on the mailing list to hiring the new support system to children’s entrance exams to discovering the grocery stores and salon – we have it all covered. The to-do list keeps upgrading, that’s all. Just like going up from two to three to four members, the number of cartons also just kept going up. We have, like, cracked the code, so to speak. Earlier it was just the two of us. We were free to explore the new neighbourhood at our own pace. Buying household stuff as and when needed. Literally. I clearly remember our first house: we went to buy stuff required to make tea, and only tea. That included a trip to the grocer and the utensils...

They say that the hand that rocks the cradle, rules the world. Forget the cliched version. I say: the hand that changes the channels on the TV remote control rules the house. Difficult job considering that the tiny people from the cradle outgrow us in height, decibels, outlook, dramatic dialogues and what not! It is impossible to argue with them about which program to watch considering that we have decided to stick to having only one TV in the house. I know the entire schedule of all the animated programs on any given day of the week. While my munchkins were still growing up, I would find myself humming nursery rhymes even when they were not around. It was an overwhelming phase. Especially in a nuclear family, where your support system is your lifeline, I would hope that they grow up soon. I was like, ‘God, when would the diaper phase go away?!’ The irony is that whenever we would cross a milestone and move on to the next phase, the earlier phase would look like a piece of cak...

Spooked! When witches go riding, and black cats are seen, the moon laughs and whispers, ‘tis near Halloween. Anonymous. Halloween is celebrated annually in several countries around the globe on the 31st of October. We relate it with spooky costumes, freaky masks, trick or treat, jack-o’-lanterns, eerie decorations, candies and more candies! The origin of Halloween is quite amusing. Some say that it marks the end of Summer and the arrival of Winter. Winter is symbolised by dark, gloomy days and even darker and longer nights.  Dark here is metaphorical to ghosts and other evil spirits.  Another version is that it is the  intervening night when the ghostly spirits freely roam around to announce their ‘arrival’ during the ‘dark’ season of winter. They are suspected to go around playing mean tricks on the mortals. You have a choice now. Either you can offer these free spirits their favourite food and other fancy sweets and candies to please them or d...

Yes.  It is all over our phones and tabs and laptops. Like an avalanche. Relief and discomfort, at the same time. I am not really shocked or surprised to see so many of my girlfriends and women acquaintances posting this on their walls. I am sure we all have discussed this within our circle of girls.  I say girls because this discussion began right from our school days and continues well and beyond. Some cheap guy on the roadside or some crazy stalker during our daily commute or that creepy relative in the family or some pervert in the office or now, thanks to the social media where one can hide behind anonymity and send cheap messages online, it just gets darker.  It is being spoken out loudly now. One of the boons of social media is that we can make ourselves heard to highlight the right cause. Creating a widespread awareness in this matter has been long overdue. The solidarity shown by so many women and men just proves that it is prevalent just about everywhere. Th...

It is that time of the year, again: The self-pampering from the parlour trip. Working out our arms by holding the umpteen number of shopping bags. Thanking our stars for the advent of online shopping in our universe. Getting hypnotised by the clever marketing of the jewellery giants. Flocking the shoppers’ bye-lanes with the entire extended family for that perfect show-stopper evening look. Threatening the boutique staff for getting the perfect fit of that dress. Ticking off the list for gifts’ shopping. Bargaining with the hawkers for the colourful lamps and rangoli. Stocking up on low calorie options alongside the ghee-laden sweets for a guilt-free celebration. Phew! But much like how every coin has two sides, here comes the downfall. The annual mega-cleaning ceremony. It is quite like the ‘Spring Cleaning’ in several cultures around the world. It involves cleaning every nook and corner of our humble abodes. Or risk being judged. Judged and looked down upon by the ‘Oh, I had al...